Date: Sun, 14 Nov 2004 00:31:39 -0800 (PST)
From: Michael Bryan
Subject: JC and the Actor (Chapter 39)
JC and the Actor, Chapter 39, Copyright 2004
----------
The following story is entirely a work of fiction. It is not meant to
imply anything about the sexuality or the personal lives of the members of
NSYNC, or any other celebrities mentioned. If you are underage, or if it
is illegal to read sexually explicit gay material where you live, don't
read this.
It certainly sounds strange to be saying that there is only one chapter
left of this story. It has been quite an experiencing writing 'JC and the
Actor' for over a year now, and it has been a real pleasure to read so many
of your thoughtful comments. Many of you have been reading and responding
from the beginning, and I sincerely hope that my great appreciation of that
fact is felt. Please continue to send your comments to
mzbryan2003@yahoo.com. And now, without further ado...in glorious
Technicolor and Stereophonic sound...
----------
Chapter 39
The seasons were changing once again, and it was the first time in
months that it was comfortable enough to sit outside. Maggie sat next to
me on a park bench, holding a cup of coffee, a messenger cap on her head
and a scarf tied around her neck.
"It feels so good to be here," I said, watching people stroll
through Central Park, many of them looking so happy you would think they
hadn't been outside in months.
"It was a really cold winter," she said. Maggie looked at me a bit
closer and started to laugh a bit, like she had been doing off and on since
I met her earlier in the day. Apparently me sporting a beard, along with a
baseball cap and aviator sunglasses was a funny sight. "You just love
thinking you have to protect yourself from being recognized, don't you?"
she laughed, reaching for my hat.
"Don't," I snapped, grabbing my hat and pressing it to my head.
"You should have seen what happened back in London when I left Jimmy for
two seconds to run into a store to buy gum."
"Aww, was it just terrible, Natty?" she said, motherly rubbing the
side of my face with her hand. It wasn't that the fans scared me. Truth
be told, they were fairly tame. Only musicians seemed to inspire teenage
girls to scream, chase after buses and tear at their clothes. For the most
part I inspired intense curiosity, staring and what would often turn into
extensive autograph signings. Whenever I found myself in such a situation,
I was nothing but polite. But when I could possibly avoid the situation, I
did. And so I sat in the park next to Maggie with my beard, baseball cap
and aviator sunglasses.
"Don't look now," she said, leaning a bit forward to get a better
look at whatever it is she was looking at. "But there is a guy in the
bushes across the way taking pictures of you."
"Christ," I said, shaking my head. "Don't they have anything
better to do?"
"I can just see the headline," Maggie laughed, moving her hand
dramatically from left to right. "Nate Murray sits on a bench with female
companion."
"That would be better than the tabloid headlines in London," I
sighed. "Nate In Sync with JC," I recalled. "Chasez Batty Over Natty."
"Ok, I get it," Maggie said.
"And we haven't even come out yet," I laughed. "To think that
people would start to speculate just because two hot young male celebrities
live together and spend all their time together."
"Imagine that," Maggie said sarcastically. "So how is the coming
out party going?" Judging by the way she asked the question, I guessed
that she had been trying to bring forth the topic but was looking for the
right opening.
"It's not happening quite yet," I shrugged. "Josh wants it to
coincide with the release of his album."
"Jeez, that boy really doesn't want his albums to do well, does
he?"
"I don't know," I said, watching a man throw a Frisbee to his dog.
"The world is changing so quickly lately. Just a few years ago I would
have said it was career suicide. But now, well, maybe people are ready for
it."
"He'll get a huge gay following, that's for sure," Maggie said.
"But do you really think that most people have become that open-minded? I
mean, a quintet of gay makeover specialists doesn't make the world a
tolerant place." I shrugged my shoulders again. I didn't really know the
answer. "Natty," Maggie said, her body shifting toward me and her
expression turning serious. "Can I ask you a question and can you promise
to answer it honestly?"
"Sure," I said. "Why not?"
"Do you really want to come out at this time? I mean, you are
about to make all these films and get even more popularity. Would you
really be doing this if JC wasn't pressuring you?"
"Honestly?" I repeated, stalling for time. Maggie nodded. "Well,
no actually. No. I mean if I was all alone in the world I would say this
is a pretty bad time to come out."
"Then don't do it," Maggie pleaded, taking my hands in hers. She
was being her usual self, a bit more dramatic than necessary. "I'm sure JC
would understand. Tell him it's not important what people think."
"I can't," I said. "He's been so excited about the idea. There's
been a real change in him. It seems to be giving him some sense of
purpose. It's fueling something inside of him."
"You've picked some time to stop being selfish," Maggie said
sarcastically. "Nate, you and JC are equals in everything now. You can't
just go along with anything he wants to do."
"But I love seeing him so happy," I said. "It's not like I haven't
given this a lot of thought, but the only conclusion that I keep coming to
is that he is more important to me than my career. I'm sure it will be
worth it."
"And what if it isn't?" Maggie asked.
"What do you mean?" I asked back.
"Come on Natty, people break up. Relationships end. And in this
case you may not even have your career to fall back on. I don't think you
want to play the roles that Nathan Lane doesn't take for the rest of your
life."
"I can't believe you would even suggest that," I said, more
pretending to be insulted than I really was. "I don't know what will
happen," I said. "But we'll just have to wait and see. Maggie, I've been
out for years in New York. Hell, type in my name on the web and you can
get a list of my ex-boyfriends."
"But the point is that you aren't sitting there confirming it.
People can still use their imaginations. They can think that when you gave
your love to Mark in a theater program, that you were thanking a family
pet. If you sit on a couch with Barbara Walters and talk about your
personal life, then you lose control of your career. That's just the way
it goes."
"No," I said. "The point is that this is what Josh wants to do,
and so I'm going to do it. Josh is the one who has had issues with his
sexual identity, not me. How can I not support him in taking a step like
this?" Maggie stayed quiet. Now she was watching the man with the
Frisbee.
"Is this all because of your, uh, indiscretion that you are doing
this?" she asked. "You still feel guilty and think that this is a way to
get rid of that feeling?"
"Of course not," I said. Then I started to think. "Well, maybe
partly..."
"Natty," Maggie yelled.
"It doesn't matter, Maggie," I said. "The reasons don't really
matter. In the end, I know that this is an important thing to do. We'll
be doing a tremendous service to the gay community by being completely open
and honest. How can that be wrong?"
"Because you're just an actor, Natty. You didn't plan a life as a
social activist and you shouldn't feel like you have to become one, just
because JC does. Just like everyone else in this country, you have the
right to go after your dreams and goals." I had to admit that I was
surprised by how much thought Maggie had put into this topic. Everything
she said was true, but so was everything that I said. In the end, it was
really a balancing test. It was just that on one side of the scale was the
man I loved.
"Part of me thinks it could work out," Maggie said, I suppose
reconciling herself to the idea. "I just wish you didn't have to be the
first person to do this. You know, the first young leading man to come out
and who still expects to be taken seriously when he is in a love scene with
Natalie Portman."
"Somebody's got to be first," I said. "And you know I wouldn't be
happy being second." I gave her what I thought was a cute little wink,
though she probably couldn't see it through my sunglasses.
"We should get going," Maggie said, looking at her wrist, which did
not have a watch. "We don't have you for much longer, do we?"
"I fly back tomorrow night," I said.
"Promise me you'll do what's best for you?" she asked.
"I have to do what's best for us," I said, hoping that I was doing
just that.
----------
An hour and a couple of autographs later, we were in a taxi headed
toward Maggie's apartment.
"I'm thinking of becoming a total sell out and moving to Los
Angeles," she said suddenly. It sounded like a confession.
"You're kidding me," I said.
"I've gotten a bunch of film offers," she said. "I don't know.
I'm getting tired of theater, and let's face it, the money in films is
quite different."
"Don't I know it," I laughed. "Do you remember that place I used
to live when we first met?"
"That seems like a long time ago," Maggie laughed.
"It's so weird, Maggie," I began. "It all happens so fast. I
mean, it's just been over a year and already I can't remember what my life
was like before. Buying groceries, window shopping, it's all become a
distant memory."
"We've all known you were destined for this," Maggie said. "But
you're so good, Natty, you really deserve it."
"You spend so much time growing up looking at celebrities, thinking
of them as something distinctly different from you and wondering what that
is. Then suddenly you are one of them and now you have to pretend that you
aren't impressed by any of them."
"It's pretty funny," she said. I pulled out my cell phone and
showed her the names of the people in my address book.
"Look at this," I said, smiling. "Gwyneth, Jude, Ewan,
Nicole...These people call and ask me how I'm doing. They invite me places
and send me scripts. It's hysterical."
"And don't forget about JC," Maggie said, reminding me that I used
to be impressed with pop stars as well.
"Of course," I said, putting the phone back in my pocket. "You
know, the two of us should look for a project to do together."
"You and JC?" she asked. "Don't you two do enough together?"
"I'm talking about you and me, crazy."
"Oh, we should," she laughed, placing her hand over mine.
"Something very dirty and erotic. I've really been thinking lately of
doing more nudity."
"Ok," I said slowly, raising an eyebrow. "You may be the first
actress to say that, but ok." We sat for a few moments in silence,
enjoying our surroundings, thinking about the directions our lives were
going. It was mid-April, and I had taken a week off from the play and from
filming the movie with Gwyneth Paltrow. Despite loving what I was doing,
it was exhausting work, filming all day and performing in "The Glass
Menagerie" every night. While JC was at work on his album and planning his
big announcement, I decided that it was best for me to strike while the
iron was still hot, and so I signed on to make six films over the next two
years, with the option of being able to develop one of the films myself.
The idea of playing a role in movie production was a bit scary since, well,
I knew nothing about it. But I also knew that having control over a
project could really be an incredible experience. Besides, after our
announcement, I may never work again.
"Where is JC, again?" Maggie asked, pulling me away from my
thoughts.
"Fiji," I said. "With Lance and the Hilton sisters, I think."
"God, he really has some taste in friends, doesn't he?" she said,
her voice taking a slightly more negative tone than I was used to hearing
from her. Rather than defend my man, I decided to come clean.
"Can I tell you something and can you promise never to repeat what
I am about to tell you?" I asked, shifting my weight toward her.
"Sure," she said. "Of course."
"I can't stand any of them," I said. "Whenever I'm around his
friends I feel like I am about to expire. I let my mind drift away and
even when I'm forced to respond to something I wasn't listening to in the
first place, they never seem to notice the difference." Maggie laughed and
nodded with understanding. Part of me always felt incredibly guilty for
not liking JC's friends. I felt snobbish. I also didn't want to be the
kind of significant other that takes his lover away from his own friendship
circle, which is why I never said anything to him.
On the other hand, JC always seemed to enjoy the company I kept,
though I sensed that he too would become bored if we got too involved in a
discussion about theater, politics, or method acting. It wasn't that he
didn't know how to be serious; it was just that his background was
significantly different from my own.
"So is that why you guys took separate vacations?" Maggie asked.
"So you wouldn't have to mingle with each other's friends?"
"Not really," I said. "I think we both realized we needed a break
from each other. We've been practically joined at the hip for months. I
don't think either of us is really used to a relationship like that."
"You guys aren't having problems, are you?"
"No, no," I explained. "I just really wanted to come here, and he
really wanted to go someplace warm, so we just figured, 'hell with it, it's
only a week.'"
"Third townhouse on the right," Maggie said to the cab driver as he
pulled up to her apartment. She opened the door and went to step out
before turning back to face me. "Natty, as actors, we struggle to
understand every emotion, every motivation for why people do the things
they do."
"Yes," I nodded, knitting my eyebrows together.
"You're so good at understanding other people's feelings," she
continued. "Don't start ignoring your own."
"I won't," I said a bit automatically, thinking that I would ponder
what she was saying at a later point when I had more time.
"Ok," she said, stepping out of the cab. "So we'll see you
tonight?"
"I have my party dress all pressed and ready to go," I smiled.
Maggie closed the door and I waved goodbye as the cab headed downtown to
take me home.
----------
It had felt very strange, sleeping in my own bed this past week.
All in all, I had not spent that much time in my New York apartment since I
had bought it. Spending a lot of my time in the city by myself, just
sitting around the house, I realized that being lonely and being alone were
two very different feelings. JC wasn't with me, but I knew he was mine. I
didn't feel the aching in my heart to be with him, knowing that he was just
a phone call away. We talked everyday and I was continually amused by his
stories of Lance's drunken debauchery up and down the island. From what JC
told me, he himself seemed to be using his vacation time for total
relaxation. He was sunbathing, eating, and yes, even surfing. It was a
sight I would have paid to see.
I wandered into the study, thinking that the room should have some
actual purpose aside from looking like a study. To my disappointment, I
couldn't think of one. My accountant managed all of my money, and my
assistant took care of all of my bills. I sat down at my computer,
thinking I could surf the web or do some online shopping. Boring. I got
up and walked over to the bookshelves, tracing the bookbindings with my
fingertip. I had read all of the books on the shelves, some of them more
than once. I sighed and headed back out into the living room, switching
the light off on my way out.
I sat down on the couch and flipped on the television. This is
ridiculous, I thought. I'm Nathaniel Murray. Actor. Celebrity. And I'm
sitting alone on my couch watching TV. Now I understood why so many
celebrities spent so much time in bars and clubs. When life wasn't very
active, we became very bored. I guess I liked working more than I
realized. I guess JC was more entertaining than I gave him credit for. I
turned off the television, put on my leather jacket, and headed outside.
I walked the streets I had walked for years, only now it felt
different. Before, I was a well-known fixture in my predominantly gay
neighborhood. Not because of my promiscuity but because of my profession,
my general social nature and yes, my appearance. Now, I was walking around
hoping that no one would recognize me and fretting about what would happen
if somebody did. I was starting to grow concerned that I was changing too
much. I had always been determined but still easy going. I had also
always been an out and proud gay man, unashamed of not fitting into any
stereotype. I was neither effeminate nor hyper-masculine. I originally
had no intention of changing that part of myself, but once I got involved
in the movie business, my situation seemed to be changing it for me. Being
told that I would make less money or that my movies would not do as well
had an effect on me and I could not deny it. It reshaped my attitude from
"who cares," to "it's nobody's business."
Being with JC also made it more problematic to be out. JC was an
established figure in popular culture. For years he had been portrayed as
straight by the media and he had thousands of fans who held tight to that
belief. It would have been childish of me to not be understanding of his
predicament, and so I complied with it. For the most part it didn't seem
to be affecting us. We'd been living together basically since we had
gotten together, and all of our close friends knew that we were a couple.
Still, there was no handholding in public. No chaste kisses. No longing
glances. I thought that I could live without those things, but currently
found myself thinking about them, watching men stroll down the street
holding hands, passing by my familiar haunts, now afraid to go inside.
I wouldn't have to worry much longer, I thought, reminding myself
of what JC and I were in the midst of preparing for. Just before New
Year's, JC told me that he wanted to come out publicly and I told him that
I was fine with his decision. He had such a determined look on his face as
he explained to me his reasons, and his enthusiasm led me to support him.
After our announcement, maybe life would go back to normal. I could go to
my favorite gay bar or neighborhood shop and totally be myself. Maybe
coming out in the media would be exactly what I needed to make me stop
feeling the way I did.
Then again, maybe coming out would prove to be a giant,
irreversible mistake. Maybe I would never again have the selection of
roles I currently enjoyed. Maybe I would be relegated to a life of
accepting humanitarian and acting awards from gay organizations, doing
guest spots on 'Will & Grace' and working with Elizabeth Taylor to raise
money for AIDS research. It wasn't that I would have a problem doing any
of those things; it was just that I wanted to do so much more. I didn't
want to have to spend the remaining part of my career hanging out with the
cast of 'Queer as Folk.'
Obviously JC and I would not be the first celebrities to come out,
but we would be the first high profile, 20-something celebrities to do so.
That being the case, there was truly no predicting of how we would be
received. I used to laugh, thinking to myself how crushed all the
teeny-boppers would be to learn that JC was into guys. Now the thought was
simply unsettling.
Lost in my own world, I turned the corner back toward my apartment,
thinking that I had tempted fate long enough in taking this solo stroll.
Obviously I wasn't looking straight in front of me, because only a moment
after turning the corner, I had smacked into another person, and was
struggling to keep from falling to the ground.
"Whoa," the person I had walked into said, reaching out to steady
me. He was larger than me and put me back on my feet with ease.
"Shit, I'm sorry," I said, looking down at the ground, half out of
embarrassment, half out of not wanting to be recognized. This is great, I
thought. This guy is going to be able to spend the rest of the month
telling everyone he knew that he stopped Nathaniel Murray from falling flat
on his ass.
"Nathan?" the man said.
"Shit," I said to myself, possibly out loud. Here we go. Slowly,
I looked up, telling myself that I would be polite, sign a quick autograph
and be on my way. Proving to me once again how many times I could be wrong
about things, I realized that the man wasn't a stranger.
"It's a bit dark to be wearing sunglasses, don't you think?" the
man said with a grin, his English accent low and sarcastic. I looked
closer at him, pretending that I wasn't quite sure I knew who he was.
"Colin Williams," I said, my hands moving to my hips. "I thought
you would have been deported by now."
"It's not the English they are deporting these days," he laughed,
grabbing me into a hug and patting me on the back. He was a good four
inches taller than me and for a second I thought that I might take another
tumble. "You know, I've been meaning to call you."
"Don't worry about it," I grinned, politely pulling away from him.
"It's only been seven years."
"Has it been that long?" he asked, reaching his hand behind his
head and scratching at his blond, short-cropped hair. He was still a
terrible liar. "Well, let me buy you a cup of coffee to make up for that.
Or maybe a razor to help you get rid of that beard."
"That's ok," I said, straightening my jacket and hat. "I have to
meet some friends for dinner soon." Either he didn't hear me, or he didn't
care, because he was already walking back toward Eighth Avenue, and I found
myself following behind. "A quick cup," I said, catching up to him.
"Is this going to make me famous?" he asked sarcastically. "Having
coffee with a big film star."
"You could probably sell the story to the tabloids for a grand," I
said.
"A grand?" he repeated. "Imagine what they would pay for all the
other stories I could share." He gave me a quick wink, which I followed up
with a punch to his arm.
"That's ancient history," I said as we approached the coffee shop.
Suddenly I was twenty again.
"Only seven years," he said, sweeping in front of me to open the
door and gesture me inside. We walked to the back and sat down on a
well-worn sofa. Colin quickly jumped back up went to order the coffee.
Throwing caution to the wind, I took off my sunglasses, took off my hat,
and breathed a sigh of relief as I slumped into the couch. I felt naked
but exhilarated, and I don't think I could explain quite why. It seemed
that everyone was turning to look at me, but so far they all seemed either
too scared or too shocked to approach me. Here I was, in a coffee shop
with rainbow flags hanging from the awning and totally surrounded by gay
men. It felt totally usual in a totally unusual way. I'm testing this
out, I thought to myself. This is what life will be like soon, so I better
make sure that I like it.
Colin returned, placing my coffee down in front of me. "You still
take it black?" he asked, sitting down next to me.
"Nice try," I said, reaching for the cup. "I never did." He
shrugged, jumped back up and returned with cream and sugar. "You still
know how to make a girl feel special," I laughed, pouring a bit of sugar
into my cup.
"I guess it's pretty pointless to ask what you've been up to,"
Colin said, leaning back and taking a big sip. He did still take it black.
"It's been an interesting few years," I said. "What have you been
up to?"
"International finance," he said. "I split my time between a bank
here and in London."
"So you went to Chicago for your MBA?" I asked, thinking I knew the
answer, but wanting to confirm it.
"Don't remind me," he said, taking another sip. "I thought the
weather in London was dismal."
"I hear Boy's Town is fabulous," I said.
"Eh," he said, shrugging. "Once you've tasted gold, all the
rest..."
"Please," I said, rolling my eyes and pushing him away with my arm.
Colin had always been flirtatious, and I didn't know whether to feel
nostalgic or disconcerted that nothing about him seemed to have changed.
"You may find this funny, or you may actually know this already,
but I've been living in London since last summer," I said. "I'm doing a
play over there."
"I didn't know that," he said. "I thought you said you would never
be able to leave New York for more than a week."
"I did say that," I said, complimenting him for remembering
something accurately. "People change." Colin began to speak but stopped
short when he realized that someone was standing in front of us, looking at
me nervously. He was young, his cheeks a bit red.
"S-sorry to bother you," the boy said. "I just, um, wanted to say
that I'm a huge fan of yours. I think you were really great in both of
your movies." He was shifting his weight from one leg to the other, over
and over again.
"Thanks," I said, smiling and nodding. I was so fucking cool. "I
really appreciate that, man."
"Ok," he said. "Um, would you mind, uh, never mind, I don't want
to bother you." He stuffed the napkin he was holding into his pants.
"Would you like me to sign that?" I asked, motioning for him to
take the napkin back out.
"Oh yeah, that would be great," the boy said, handing the napkin to
me. Colin reached into his coat pocket and handed me a pen.
"Here you go, Mr. Movie Star," Colin said.
I asked the kid for his name and signed the napkin, handing it back
to him. "Take care, dude," I said. He smiled again and thanked me,
hurrying back to his friends, showing them the autograph as they headed out
the door.
"Man? Dude?" Colin said, referencing my apparently new vernacular.
"I can't believe I said that," I said, shaking my head. "I sound
just like JC"
"Jesus Christ?" Colin asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No," I said. "Never mind." Given our location and my respect for
JC's privacy, I decided against saying anything about him, despite wanting
Colin to know who I was dating.
"That's pretty impressive," he said, looking toward the door.
"Having strangers come up to you, asking for autographs."
"Part of the job," I said, trying to downplay it, trying to pretend
that I wasn't impressed as well.
"It's really funny, though," Colin said. "Who would have thought
that watching you run around campus in a sheet pretending to be Caesar
would turn into all of this?"
"You never took me seriously," I said. Colin always thought acting
was just a grownup's way of playing pretend.
"I didn't have to," he smiled. "You were always there to take
yourself so seriously."
"This has been fun," I said, putting my cup down and standing up
dramatically. "Maybe we'll run into each other again in another seven
years."
"Nathan," Colin said, grabbing my hand. His grip was firm but
nonviolent. "I was just teasing, please sit back down." I looked around
the café and saw that I was drawing more attention to myself than I wanted.
I sat back down.
"Yeesh," Colin breathed, settling back down into the couch. "Such
a drama queen."
"I had goals," I said, my eyes burning into him.
"As did I," Colin said, with a knowing nod. I wanted to be mad at
him, but he was making a valid point without saying too much. We were both
kids in college at one point, both with dreams and aspirations. It was
true that I spent the majority of our time together totally preoccupied
with my own.
"God," I said, cradling my head in my hand. "I was such a little
snot sometimes."
"You sure were," Colin smiled, showing his perfect white teeth.
"But it's ok, it's part of what attracted me to you in the first place."
In hearing Colin say that, it occurred to me that it was a frequent
statement made by people I had been in relationships with. They were
always attracted to my intensity, my passion for what I did. Yet once they
had me, they were often left cold, as they usually were forced to deal with
being second in my list of priorities. JC, I thought, had changed all of
that.
"Whoa," I said with a bit of a laugh. "You're not suggesting that
I was the reason we broke up, are you?" It was strange to be talking about
our break-up as though it was a recent event. We were just kids in college
when we dated. It seemed like a million years ago and I seriously thought
of it rarely up until now.
"You're the one who left me," Colin said. He was enjoying talking
about this and I couldn't quite tell why.
"That was after I found out you were sleeping with half of the
campus." I took another sip of my coffee. I was enjoying this too. Colin
nodded his head, suggesting that he was accepting his culpability.
"People change," he said. If I didn't know him better I would have
thought he was serious.
"No they don't," I said, folding my arms.
"You just said five minutes ago that they did." He looked around
the room as though he was trying to find someone to confirm what I had
said. "I was just a kid, Nate."
"Fine, fine, it's all forgotten," I said, waving my hands down.
"Come on, now, it's been seven years. What fabulous things have you been
up to?"
We spent the next half-hour catching up. Colin had made a great
deal of money for himself and for several companies in relatively few
years. Still, he did not come across as someone obsessed with money. He
simply did something that he was good at and reaped the rewards. I asked
him about his family and he asked me about mine. As he talked I couldn't
help but start to see his familiar gestures, the way he held his hands or
postured his head. It wasn't that I was remembering how I used to feel
about him, it was just, well, that I was remembering that he was someone I
used to know. Colin was a very handsome man, very tall and broad
shouldered. The years had made him look a bit more distinguished, a little
less reckless than when he was in school. He was also, as I remembered and
as he still demonstrated, the least complicated person I had ever known.
He wasn't simple by any means; he just always seemed to be able to look at
everything in proper perspective. He never worried what anyone thought of
him, and he was always a great friend to those he liked.
Eventually, or inevitably, the conversation turned toward
relationships. "I don't know," he said. "There were a couple of people I
thought I might settle down with, but it always felt just like that,
settling."
"They expected too much from you," I said.
"Exactly," he said, his eyes widening. "I've realized a few things
about myself over the years. For one thing, I realized that I can't be
everything to somebody. I don't want to be."
"You want a partner, not a child," I said, wondering where all of
this was coming from.
"Yes," he said. "I mean, I spend half of the year here, half in
London, and I love that. I love the freedom to go where I please, but I
realize that it would be a lot to ask of someone to enjoy living like that.
But how about you?" He asked me about myself before I had the chance to
say anymore about his viewpoint."
"I've been with someone for almost two years," I said, hearing an
almost embarrassing sense of pride in my voice.
"An actor?" he asked.
"A singer," I said, smiling slightly to myself. I looked back up
to see Colin staring at me with interest. "And that's all I'm going to say
about that," I said, nodding my head slowly.
"Oh, come now dear Nathan. I won't tell a soul."
"No, no," I laughed. "Besides, you will find out soon enough. We
are about to come out publicly as a couple."
"Hmm," Colin hummed, sipping his coffee. "That sounds like a
pretty terrible idea."
"We shall see," I smiled, looking around the room. My tone
indicated that I had no intention of debating the issue with him, and I
liked the feeling of control. This wasn't an issue for everyone to offer
his or her two cents on. This was between JC and me.
"Please tell me it's not that Justin Timberlake fellow," Colin said
after a few moments. I started to laugh. There was simply no escaping the
boy from Memphis.
"No," I said, shaking my head. "It's not Justin Timberlake."
I eventually had to say my goodbyes as I really was meeting my
friends for dinner. "I'm headed that way," Colin said. "I'll walk with
you." We headed toward mid-town. The weather was a bit colder than what I
had dressed for, but I hardly noticed, as I was quite thrilled to just be
walking through the city. In the dark, and walking with someone as big as
Colin, I passed unnoticed and it was wonderful. "You're meeting Morris and
Erin?" he asked. "My goodness, you really know how to stay in touch."
"They've been very good friends over the years," I said. "I never
get tired of them."
"That's great," Colin said as we approached the restaurant. "Give
them my best."
"Do you want to come in and say 'hi'?" I asked. "Maybe stay for a
drink?"
"No, no," he said. "You go and enjoy. I think that Erin may still
try to make good on her promise to ruin me for breaking up with you. This
has been really nice though, Nathan."
"It has," I said. Colin reached into his coat and retrieved a
business card, which he handed me.
"I'm in London all the time," he said. "Maybe we could chat again
before another seven years passes us by."
"That would be great," I said, taking the card from him. "You
should come see the show."
"That would be lovely," he said, leaning down to kiss me on the
cheek. I didn't kiss him back and he withdrew, tightening his overcoat
around him. "Well then," he said. "Have a good evening."
"You too," I said, watching him turn to leave. He headed north,
and I stood there for a moment watching him. If he turns around, I thought
to myself, he still feels something. This was a frequent game I played
with myself, and apparently I currently had nothing better to do. The
traffic light at the next block turned red and I saw Colin come to a stop,
his hands slipping into his pockets. Slowly, he turned back around,
looking toward the front of the restaurant where he had left me. I grinned
for only a moment, and only to myself, then headed inside.
---------
"Where is he? I'll kill him."
"Easy, Erin. We're both big boys now. Honestly, it was nice
seeing him again." I took a sip of the red wine I was holding, wondering
what effect the mixture of caffeine and alcohol would have on me.
"And let's face it," Morris said. "If there was ever a guy that
could make me go gay..." Erin and I both put our drinks down and stared at
him, our eyebrows raised. "Kidding!" he laughed, picking up his glass.
"Just kidding."
"Well, that pretty face stomped all over our little Nathaniel's
heart, remember?" Erin said, glaring at Morris.
"Who the hell is Little Nathaniel?" I asked with a laugh, trying to
keep the conversation light and humorous.
"We were all just kids back then," Morris defended. "We all did
stupid things, but people grow up and change."
"Wait," I said. "Do you really think that people change?"
"Of course they do," Morris said. "Do you think that you view
things the same way you did when you were twenty?"
"Well no," I said. "But I don't know. I think people learn how to
better manage their behavior. I don't know if they change their attitudes
about things."
"There wasn't a girl on campus who didn't dream about going to bed
with Colin," Erin said suddenly. I guess her outrage was over. "When we
found out he was gay it was a dark day, indeed."
"I thought I was the guy every girl wanted to go to bed with," I
said, acting totally shocked.
"You?" Erin said, shaking her head. "No, no. Too pretty. All the
girls who were in love with you are probably still living in 'Will & Grace'
relationships all over the city."
"Amazing," Morris laughed. "There I was, actually liking women,
and couldn't get any."
Maggie arrived, late as expected, and we all enjoyed a terrific
Italian dinner, somehow polishing off a few bottles of wine in the process.
During dessert, Maggie pulled a script out of her bag, and handed it to
Morris. "It's fabulous," she said. "You must do it."
"What is this?" I asked.
"You know," Maggie began. "Life has gone on since you took off
across the pond. It's Neil Howard's new play."
"And I didn't know about this because..." I said.
"Trust me, Natty. It's not a part you would be interested in.
Besides, you're all booked up for the next two years." Neil Howard's last
play was the reason I was now famous. I would later learn that Maggie had
taken Neil to one of Morris' off-Broadway productions, and that Neil had
been quite impressed and wanted Morris to read for one of the parts.
"Fine, fine," I laughed. "Just forget all about me and I'll retire
to the English countryside."
"Now you listen here," Erin said. "You finish up this play and
that movie you're doing, and get your ass back here to New York."
"Can't do it," I said. "The film I'm starting next is being filmed
in England too. It's a remake of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'."
"Jesus, Nate," Erin said. "So much for being Mr. New Yorker."
"I'm real excited about it actually," I said.
"Of course you are," Maggie laughed. "You get to play an
impossibly beautiful man who sacrifices his soul to remain that way."
"Wait," Morris said. "It's an autobiography?" They all started
laughing, though I couldn't really see the humor in it.
"You know," I said. "If I wasn't drunk right now, I'd probably be
really aggravated.
"We're just teasing," Maggie said. "I'm sure you will be marvelous
in it."
"Fine, fine," I said. "You all just keep laughing. I'm sure my
new friends Gwyneth and Jude will support me completely." I took another
sip and looked around the room, pretending to scan the crowd for more
interesting people. It would take another minute for my three friends to
start apologizing profusely.
----------
Late that night, I stumbled back up to my apartment, thoroughly
exhausted. It had been one of those days where it felt like much had
happened, but if you were to tell someone else about it, they would be
forced to feign interest. I don't know how I ended up on the couch, but
there I was, enveloped in sumptuous leather, drifting in and out of sleep,
wondering about everything and nothing. Something wasn't adding up in my
mind, but I couldn't understand what it was. It was as if I was looking at
myself and my life as two separate things. I knew that I had always been
intense, but I also knew that I spent most of my young adulthood as a happy
person. And while I wouldn't say that I was unhappy now, I didn't feel the
way that I would have predicted a year or two ago.
I found myself often thinking of that opening night, in May of
2004, nearly two years ago. When the crowd rose to their feet at the end
of the performance, I knew that I was about to get everything I had wanted.
I knew the film offers would start coming, and I knew that there would be
recognition for my work from very high sources. I was an actor who wanted
to be a movie star and in the past two years I had proven that I could be
both. I was on magazine covers and talk shows. I attended award shows and
premieres. I did theater and film, and continued to be respected in both
mediums.
I had also managed to keep my old friends and make new ones, and I
avoided false associations. Still, the Nathaniel of two years ago would be
sitting in his apartment right now, his mind clear and focused, his heart
full of excitement and appreciation for the life he had. He would walk the
streets smiling, eating at his favorite restaurants, signing autographs and
posing for pictures. The Nathaniel today did not feel that way, and he
disliked himself for not making the most of an extraordinary opportunity.
In pondering all of this, albeit in a drunken haze, I realized that
there were two significant changes in my life over the last two years. The
first was that I had fallen in love with a pop singer. The second was
that, partly as a result of the former, I had begun to live a semi-closeted
life. It seemed silly that this should bother me. I mean, the reasons
were obvious. Hollywood doesn't like its leading men to be gay. I had to
have known that all along, but the position did stand in conflict with the
open person I had been in the theater. Wasn't that the direction I was
headed? To be the first openly gay actor to become an international
sensation?
JC was thrown into the middle of all this, making the path toward
the closet all the easier. Once I realized I loved him, I knew that our
relationship would have to always come first, and if that meant protecting
his sexual orientation, then I would do it. It wasn't really that big of a
deal in my mind at the time, but now I couldn't help but think of how it
was a dramatic shift in my original intentions.
When JC and I had first started going out, he seemed to be a rather
relaxed person. He seemed to take being gay in stride with the rest of his
personality, and he did not go to great lengths to conceal it. He didn't
let his public persona dominate his private life. But over time, there was
a change in him and I wondered what the cause of it was. Was it my affair?
That whole debacle with Elaine? The ghosts in the attic? I should just
ask him, I thought, but then it occurred to me that there were just certain
things we didn't talk about. He knew what kind of subjects upset me, and I
knew the same for him. I started to wonder, for as much love as we shared,
did we really know each other?
I sat up and shook my head back and forth, trying to knock some
sense into myself. If I thought much more about all of this, I might force
myself into an existential crisis, and nobody was going to want to stay
around to see that. Besides, whatever had been bothering JC must have
stopped because now he was going public with his private life. So what
exactly was it that was bothering me, then? Both of our problems would
soon be solved. I would once again be an 'out' actor with a boyfriend I
loved. Everything would be perfect then, right?
I crawled into bed, thankful that my flight back to London was in
the evening. My cell phone started to ring, and I let out a loud sigh as I
got up to look for it, afraid not to answer while I had a boyfriend on a
small island in the South Pacific.
"Hello?" I mumbled into the phone.
"Nate, it's Josh," JC yelled into the phone. I resisted the urge
to tell him he didn't have to speak louder for me to hear him in New York.
"Hey there," I said. "What time is it there?"
"I have no idea," he said. "I just wanted to tell you something
before you hear about it on 'Access Hollywood'."
"What happened?" I said, sitting up.
"He's totally fine, but Lance had a little surfing accident today."
"Oh my God, is he ok?"
"Yeah, but it looks like he will be looking forward to nose job
number two."
"Oh man," I laughed. "That really sucks. Give him my best."
"I will," he said. "So will you be back in London soon?"
"Not soon enough," I sighed. "Josh, I don't think my friends like
me anymore."
"Don't be silly," he said. "They are probably just upset because
they never see you anymore."
"I guess," I said, falling back into my pillows. "I miss seeing
you. I feel out of place here."
"Come on now, Nate. You're just tired."
"And drunk," I added. I wanted to tell him more. I wanted to tell
him that I was completely confused about every part of my life. I wanted
to tell him that I didn't want to come out, but that I wanted to be an
'out' actor at the same time. Unfortunately, I couldn't see the point in
trying to explain feelings that I didn't understand and that didn't make
any sense.
"I found out they're releasing the single this week," he said.
"Wow, so you mean I will actually be able to hear it?" For all of
JC's preparation for his second album, he refused to let me hear any of the
completed versions of the songs.
"The record company actually seems to be excited about it," he
said. "They think it might do well."
"I hope so," I said. "I'd love for you to have the success you
deserve."
"They've actually been a lot better about the whole 'coming out'
thing than I originally thought they would be. I think they are more
curious than anything now to see how the market reacts to gay artists."
"And is being referred to as a 'gay artist' what you want?" I
asked.
"It doesn't bother me," he said. "Really, I just don't care at
this point."
"Ok, then," I said, realizing light was starting to come through
the windows. "Well, I don't know what time it is where you are, but I've
got to get some sleep."
"Ok babe," he said. "I love ya, and I'll see ya soon."
"Love you too," I said, snapping my phone closed and tossing it
onto the pillow next to me. I pulled my bed sheets up over my shoulders,
closed my eyes, and prayed for enlightenment.
----------
I arrived at the airport with my two bodyguards and Morris. "It's
a shame you have to leave so soon," Morris said, handing me my carry-on
case as we stepped out of the limousine.
"Yeah," I said. "This was fun. It's weird to think that it will
be almost another year before I come back to the states."
"You will come back, right?" Morris asked.
"Sure," I said nodding, though I realized I didn't sound
convincing. "I mean, I guess I'm not really sure. With all these projects
coming up, I'm going to be all over the place, wherever we end up filming."
I thought for a moment. "I guess I don't really live anywhere anymore."
"Aw, Nathaniel," Morris smiled. "You're making me all sad now.
Don't say stuff like that. This is supposed to be a great time in your
life."
"That's what they keep telling me," I said. I reached over to give
Morris a hug and a pat on the back. This was one of the unknown problems
of fame, I thought. You stop being able to be close to anybody. You start
to see the people you love less and less frequently, and you start to see
the people you barely care about more and more. I knew that a lot of
celebrities traveled with entourages, where they basically paid great deal
of money to have their friends spend all of their time with them. But the
very idea of it sounded kind of lame. All my friends had their own lives
and jobs they liked. It wasn't like I could say, "Morris, quit your acting
career and travel with me from the film set to the theater every day."
"Good luck with the audition," I said, pulling my bag over my
shoulder.
"Thanks," he said. "Give me a call when you land." We said our
goodbyes before I was whisked away into the airport, safely placed between
Jerry and Jimmy as we headed toward the first class lounge. On certain
days I was thrilled to have these two guys with me and today was definitely
one of those days. They announced that I couldn't stop to sign autographs
or pose for pictures. I didn't have to be the bad guy, or should I say
that I didn't have to be the good guy who never wants to be the bad guy,
and so he usually complies with the people's requests.
Even in first class, a less than considerate child can repeatedly
kick the back of your chair. Were I still anonymous, just a fellow
citizen, I may have turned around and asked him to stop. Now that I was
famous, I had to sit there and be kicked, afraid that tomorrow's tabloid
headlines might read: "Nate Murray Hates Kids."
I arrived in London, tired and sore. It was morning and I hadn't
slept at all on the plane. I was silent on my way back to the townhouse,
and after Jimmy and Jerry had placed my bags inside and left, I dragged
myself up to the bedroom and flung myself onto the bed. There was a lot of
creaking coming from the third floor, causing me to groan and roll onto my
back. "Not now, boys," I yelled out. "Josh isn't here." To my vague
surprise, the sounds came to a stop. Our friendly ghosts usually made
themselves scarce when I was in the house alone, but I suppose they may
have gotten lonely with both JC and I gone for the week. I rolled onto my
side and closed my eyes. I could feel that sleep would come quickly, and I
was most thankful for that. I'd have to be back to the theater by five pm.
My eyes opened and after the sleepiness drained out of them, I
realized I was staring into another pair of eyes. "Hello sleeping beauty,"
JC said, smiling, placing a light kiss on my lips.
"I didn't know you would get back so soon," I said, my body still
too tired to move.
"I missed you," he said. He was kneeling down by the bed so that
his face was level with mine. I reached out my hand and pressed it against
the side of his face. It was in these moments that I wished we lived in a
vacuum. Right here, right now. I could stay in this room with JC forever.
My hand moved down from JC's face until his hand was in mine.
"Josh, I don't want to go outside anymore," I said. "Let's just
pull the drapes closed and forget about the rest of the world." I pulled
him toward me and he took his cue, getting up on the bed and sitting back
against the headboard so that I could lay my head on his lap. "I just feel
so confused lately," I continued. "I just get so I...I..."
"Shh, shh," JC said, smoothing my hair back with his hand. "Don't
talk. Just rest." I closed my eyes again, and drifted back to sleep.
I woke up again, aware that it must be quite late at this point.
To my surprise my head was still on JC's lap and I sat up to realize that
he had fallen asleep, sitting on the bed. His long lashes hung down and
his mouth hung slightly open. The flight from Fiji must have been really
tiring. I looked over at the alarm clock and saw that it was four in the
afternoon. I had just an hour to get ready and get to the theater. Before
going into the bathroom, I turned around, to take one more look at my
sleeping lover. There's nothing I won't do for him, I thought. Even if it
meant ruining my career.
Twenty minutes later, showered and shaved, I was back in the
bedroom, getting my socks and underwear out of the dresser.
"Looking pretty sexy over there," JC said.
"Thanks," I said, pulling on my boxer-briefs and tossing the towel
that was wrapped around my waist to the floor.
"So, I'm awake now," JC smiled, patting the other side of the bed
with his hand.
"I have to get to the theater," I said, pushing the dresser drawer
closed and walking over to the closet. I couldn't understand why I took
any time deciding what to wear. I was always just going to the theater
where I would have to change into my costume anyway. I picked a shirt and
started to button it up, looking back at JC.
"Oh my God," I said, suddenly realizing his condition and hurrying
over to get a better look at him. "You're as red as a lobster!"
"It hurts too," he sighed, giving me a playful frown. "But we had
a good time."
"Do you need something to put on it?" I asked, sounding just like
my mother.
"I have stuff," he said. "What I don't have is someone to help
me." He gave me a little wink, which was followed by a little grimace. He
really was uncomfortable.
"Why didn't you say something earlier?" I said, sitting down next
to him and starting to ease his shirt up over his head.
"Ow. Ow. Ow." I removed his shirt and retrieved the lotion from
his luggage. I turned back to take notice of his red chest, arms and back,
squeezing some of the lotion onto my hand.
"Hmm," I laughed, gently smoothing the cream onto his shoulders,
watching him bite his bottom lip. "A very firm lobster, I should say."
For a skinny, sunburnt guy, he really did have a well-developed body,
clearly strong if not bulging.
"Thanks," he said, turning around so I could do his back.
"Were you in the sun from morning to night?" I asked, wondering how
he got himself into such a state.
"Pretty much," he said. "But I really overdid it the last day,
when Lance's surfboard decided to give him some rough love."
"He's going to end up looking like Michael Jackson if he keeps it
up," I said, motioning for JC to turn back around. "Now for your front," I
said, giving him a wink of my own. He smiled and eased himself down on the
bed, putting one of his hands behind his head. I gently massaged the cream
into his chest, unable to be unimpressed with the tightness of his muscles,
briefly enjoying the feel of the tiny hairs on his chest dancing under my
fingertips. My hands moved up and down the washboard he called his abs,
and I could see the red line of his tan give way to the white skin below
where his pants hung on his hips.
"You know," he started. I knew immediately that it wasn't going to
be an interesting fact about the Fiji islands. "I'm not burned down
there." I looked up at him and received another wink.
"Well," I grinned. "Then there's no reason for me to go anywhere
near that area, is there?"
"Aw Nate," he said, sounding like I had just told him to go to bed
without supper. "He misses you so much."
"Uh, 'he' will have to wait," I said. "I have to get to the
theater." I looked down to notice a familiar bulge in JC's pants. The guy
certainly didn't need much to get him excited.
"See?" he said. "He's all ready to play and you're taking away his
best friend." I grasped JC's free hand and brought it down to his crotch.
"There," I said. "He can play with him. They're pretty familiar
with each other, right?" I hopped off the bed and went into the bathroom
to wash my hands. It wasn't that I didn't want to fool around with JC, it
was that I really did have to get going.
"Should we have a late dinner?" he called as I walked back into the
bedroom. It was something we often did after a show.
"That would be great," I said.
"I can show you all the pictures I took with my new digital
camera."
"Cool," I smiled, walking over to the bed and leaning down to kiss
him goodbye. I was taken to the theater, feeling a bit reenergized. I was
back in familiar territory, back doing what I loved and back with the man I
loved. Maybe I didn't do as well without JC around me. Maybe I could
never explain what void he filled and maybe I shouldn't try to.
A few hours later I was in my dressing room, removing my stage
makeup. "Great comeback show," someone called, passing by. Comeback, I
thought to myself, shaking my head. I was gone for a week. "I need to get
home quickly tonight," I said to Jerry as he entered the room. "Can you
bring the car around to the front entrance?" Jerry nodded and started
speaking into his headset. It was a little trick us theater actors used
once in awhile, though I always felt a little guilty for doing it. Wait
for everyone to line up at the backstage entrance for autographs, and then
dash out the way the audience originally came in. It wasn't nice, but it
would get me home for dinner quickly.
I closed the front door behind me, relishing the silence if only
for a moment. JC was walking down the rather grand staircase, smiling
comfortably. "Dinner is served," he said, reaching the ground floor. He
was barefooted, wearing dark gray-checkered pajama bottoms and a light gray
robe, tied loosely around his waist, exposing much of his chest.
"Should I put my pjs on too?" I asked, planting a chaste kiss on
his lips.
"Depends on how hungry you are?" he answered.
"Hmm, I guess I will change after," I said. We walked into the
kitchen where the table was filled with various high-end take out items.
It was amazing which restaurants were willing to deliver if you paid them
enough. "Looks great," I said, sitting down, and placing a napkin on my
lap. It was a casual meal, but JC had gone through the trouble of taking
two large candles from the dining room and lighting them on the kitchen
table.
We ate quietly at first, but it wasn't long before JC began to tell
me little anecdotes from his trip. I listened with interest, but also
found myself concentrating on the way his lips moved, the way his eyes
twinkled when he started to laugh. "I love you," I found myself saying,
interrupting him in the middle of a story. He looked a little taken aback,
but immediately reciprocated the sentiment.
"Nate, are you ok?" he then asked. Oh God, I thought, I'm
unraveling right here and now. He's worried that I am insane.
"Yeah," I said. "Of course. It's just that I'm so much happier
when I'm with you. I really love what we have together."
"Me too," he said. "I missed you this week." He paused for a
minute. "Nate, not that you have to have a reason for it, but I'm just
curious to know if there is a reason why you are saying this right now."
"With everything coming up," I began, "I'm afraid we aren't going
to be able to spend so much time together. Things are going to get
complicated with our whole 'coming out.' And when you add promoting your
album to that and me making back to back films while still doing the play
every night, well, it just feels like we are in for quite a ride."
"We just have to make the time we have together count," he said.
"Heck, everyone has to do that. We have to make it work because we want it
to." This was a similar discussion to one we had long ago. I wondered why
we found ourselves having it again.
"I guess I just want everything to be simple," I said. "But
nothing ever is."
"It will be someday," JC said. "Maybe just not right now."
A short while later, we found ourselves in bed, making out like
teenagers. We were both exhausted, but even that fact couldn't keep our
hands off of each other's bodies. Clothes slowly made their way to the
floor and bodies slowly began to move through numerous positions.
Eventually I sat astride JC, reaching for the nightstand to retrieve the
bottle of lube. "Nate," JC said softly, his hand caressing the side of my
face and moving down my neck. "I don't think I feel like it tonight."
"That's ok," I said, squirting lubricant onto my hand and bringing
it to his cock. "I do." JC let out a small gasp as my hand started moving
the cool liquid up and down his shaft. This wasn't typical behavior for
me, but tonight, I knew that I wanted him inside me. I wanted to feel the
closeness. It made me feel oddly protected, and knowing that I was going
to be the source of his pleasure only made the event more intoxicating.
I looked down to see that JC still had a bewildered expression on
his face as I raised myself up on my knees and began to slowly lower myself
onto him. "Oh, Nate," he sighed, feeling the head of his cock pop inside
me. He moved his hands to my hips as I moved closer to him, his cock
sending multiple sensations throughout my body.
"God, I love you so much," I groaned, resting on top of him, trying
to adjust to his size. I grabbed his shoulders and began to rock myself
back and forth, up and down. The room was dark, the only light coming from
the moon. Occasionally JC's hands would move to my stomach and up my
chest. Occasionally he would lift himself up to kiss me or to take one of
my nipples into his mouth.
When I knew he was close I pulled him toward me, embracing him tightly, my
hands pressed against his firm, smooth back, his head cradled in my neck.
He released inside me, and shortly after that brought me to climax with his
hand. Minutes later, we lay on the bed, our breathing slowly returning to
normal and sleep encroaching upon us. If only we could just stay like
this, I thought, no longer able to keep my eyes open. Why did life always
have to get in the way of the things we really liked?
----------
Almost a week later, I was again sitting in my dressing room,
removing my stage makeup. My cell phone rang and I answered knowing that
it was JC. "Nate," he gasped. "You have to be home in twenty minutes."
"Is everything ok?" I asked, a bit worried, though he didn't sound
upset. I also didn't know if it was physically possible to get home in
that amount of time.
"Yeah," he said. "Just try, though, please?" I took a quick
breath, knowing that I would say yes and feeling bad that once again I
would be cutting off my fans. I closed the phone, stopped removing my
makeup and told Jerry the plan. Sure enough we were soon speeding through
London, and with probably only thirty seconds to spare, I was back in the
townhouse, running toward JC's voice. He was in the library, on the
computer, motioning me toward him.
"I'm listening to one of the New York stations on the Web," he
said. "They're about to premiere my song for the evening commute." He
turned up the speakers and we soon heard the familiar voice of a New York
DJ from New York's most popular radio station.
"And now we've got something new for you guys from Mouseketeer-No
More, JC Chasez. It's the first single from his upcoming second album,
titled 'All You Need to Know.' Here's 'Give It!" Familiar chords that I
had heard over and over again coming out of JC's keyboard were now coming
out of the radio, only now they were a song. I looked at JC and he was
positively beaming. This wasn't exactly a guy who wasn't used to hearing
himself on the radio, but I could clearly see how much this was exciting
him. I could hardly contain my own excitement, and once his vocals
started, I decided not to, and so I started jumping up and down screaming.
Soon we were both jumping up and down screaming, probably making the
neighbors quite concerned. Before we knew it, the song was over and I
hugged him tightly before we both fell back onto a nearby couch.
"Josh, this is so fucking cool," I said. "You're such a rock
star."
"Thanks," he said. "It's still such a rush to hear your music on
the radio, knowing that thousands or millions of people are hearing it."
"And the song was awesome. I mean, it was really good." I slapped
his chest playfully. "How could you not have played me the final version
before now?"
"I knew it would be more exciting this way," he said. His eyes
grew large and he looked at me thoughtfully. "Do you think it might do
well?"
"If it doesn't," I said. "People are just nuts." It was one of
those songs that you knew clubs would go nuts for. The beat was intense
and original. The vocals were smooth and the lyrics were perfect pop: ripe
with sexual innuendo, but not really about anything. I would have to say
it was the most commercially viable song he had made to date, and I also
knew why. JC really needed this song to be a big hit so that he could, for
however briefly, be the toast of popular music. Then he would 'come out'
and maybe, just maybe, the enthusiasm over his music would turn him into
the first young openly gay and commercially successful pop star.
JC's cell phone and the house phone almost started to ring in
unison. They would both continue to ring for the next few hours as
everyone he knew called to congratulate him. JC and I had been together
for almost two years, but I still knew basically nothing about the music
industry. I didn't know what process was involved in promoting an album
and I didn't know that having your song premiere on the radio during the
evening commute was a huge deal. Even after two films, I had barely
learned what it took to promote a movie. I knew that at the heart of both
these industries was the business of making money. For the most part, I
had shown up solely to do the acting. I didn't try to get a percentage of
the profits and the idea of ever being a producer was completely foreign to
me. I had a financial planner and I made sure that my money was invested
wisely, but that was about it for me. I acted and got paid for it.
I was glad that I kept things simple as I watched JC walking all
over the house, talking to different people about record sales, radio
promotion, video production and everything else that was required to make
him what he was. JC was an artist, but he was also a businessman.
I was already in bed by the time JC finished. I was exhausted from
a day of pretending to be in love with Gwyneth Paltrow and an evening of
pretending to be the son of a fading Southern belle. I had to stop keeping
such late hours, I thought, feeling JC slip into the bed, his arms wrapping
around me. I was half-asleep, too tired to talk, but I moved my arm over
his. He kissed my neck and settled down next to me. He was exhausted too.
It was a sign of things to come.
----------
A few more weeks passed and before I knew it, my twenty-eighth
birthday was seven days away. While I was certainly in no rush to get
older, there was an excitement surrounding this birthday, as I was now a
bona-fide celebrity. The guest list for my party was strictly A-list, and
the list had become quite long. I decided to have the party in London, in
our townhouse. It was the best way to keep the paparazzi from
photographing the entire event.
It was early Saturday morning. I was startled awake by the
slamming of a dresser drawer.
"What's going on?" I asked, still groggy, my eyes adjusting to the
light.
"I told you yesterday," JC said quickly, opening another drawer and
slamming it closed. "I have to go make the video today. Don't you ever
listen to me?"
"Um, it's 5:30 in the morning Josh," I said defensively. "Forgive
me if I momentarily forgot."
"Whatever," he said, picking up his cell phone and stuffing it into
his pocket. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out that JC was angry. He
headed toward the bedroom door, indicating that he was planning on leaving
without saying anything else.
"You're not even going to say goodbye?" I asked, sitting up and
staring at him with a bewildered expression. He stopped short but didn't
immediately turn around. Slowly, he faced me, looking a little
embarrassed.
"Um, I'm sorry, Nate," he said quietly. "It's not you. It's me."
"Do you want to tell me what's wrong?" I asked, drawing my knees up
and wrapping my arms around them.
"There isn't any time," he said. "I'm already late." I nodded but
noticed that he wasn't moving. "God, I'm just so sick of this!" he yelled.
"I'm supposed to go and make this totally sexually ambiguous video, and it
scares the hell out of me. I don't know what people are going to think,
and I know that I'm not supposed to care, but I'm worried. If all of this
doesn't turn out to be successful, I'm just going to end up being the queer
guy from NSYNC!"
"Ok," I said. "But Josh, you are doing this for yourself and the
gay community." I was repeating his words from the past. "You can't both
do this and be worried about the outcome."
"It's just all this waiting," he sighed. "First we have to see how
the single does. Then the video. Then the album. I just want to tell
everyone already. I want to tell them all right now. JC Chasez takes it
up the ass!"
"Josh," I said, a bit shocked.
"Before," he continued, "when I had no intention of ever saying
anything it was fine, but now, now that I do want to tell, I feel like I'm
being slowly strangled."
"Josh, it will be fine. Just go make the video and relax.
"This could be so embarrassing, Nate," JC said. "The director
really wants to push the boundaries. There won't be any going back after
this."
"Do you want to go back?" I asked, my eyebrows raising slightly.
Maybe JC was trying to tell me that he wasn't as prepared for all of this
as he thought.
"No," he said quickly, his eyes dashing downward for a moment.
"I've just got to remember that this is the best way to do this. Then I
will be happy, the record label will be happy, and, well, hopefully the
fans will be happy."
"Josh," I said, wanting to remind him of something good before he
left. "The single is about to crack the top ten and it's only been out for
two weeks. Things are going really well."
"Yeah," he said. "You're right. I certainly never thought I would
see that happen. Not on my own, anyway." He smiled mildly, and then said
he would call me later as he headed out the door and bounded down the
steps. Less than ten seconds later I heard the large front door closing,
amused at the speed at which my former NSYNC-er could travel.
----------
"He kind of flipped out this morning," I said, stabbing at my salad
with my fork.
"Really?" Gwyneth asked. "He doesn't seem the type. Is he having
second thoughts about coming out?"
"I'm not sure," I said, shrugging my shoulders and taking another
bite. "It's just the first time I've seen him act confused in a long
time." From the day JC told me about his plans to 'come out,' it had been
a series of quick and deliberate decisions without any hesitation. That's
what made me believe that it was what he truly wanted to do, and why I
wanted to support him even at the expense of my own career.
"It's all becoming real, now," Gwyneth said. "He probably just
needs to adjust to that."
"I suppose," I said. I put down my fork and looked around the set.
"God," I sighed. "Are we almost done making this movie?" Gwyneth laughed
and blotted her lips with a napkin.
"Two more weeks," she said. "The director promised."
"Good," I said. "That should be just in time for our Barbara
Walters interview."
"I still can't believe you are going to do this," she said. "I
wanted you to do this movie with me because I thought that would help it do
well."
"What?" I asked, pretending to be offended when in reality we had
already discussed this a million times. "I thought you wanted me for my
talent."
"Oh, that too," she laughed, rolling her eyes.
"Are you coming next Saturday?" I asked.
"I would never miss your thirtieth," she smiled.
"It's my twenty-eighth," I said, my teeth clenched.
"Come on," she said, standing up. "We have to get back on the set.
Are you ready for me to slap you around?"
"Isn't that what we've just been doing?"
We filmed a couple of scenes, and then it was time for me to get
over to the West End for my nightly performance. I had really become an
acting machine over these past few months. Few people could say that I
wasn't really working hard.
When I returned home that evening, JC was nowhere to be found. I
called his cell phone, but there was no answer. It was hard to get too
worked up about where he was, because when you were dating a celebrity, you
basically knew that he had a bunch of people with him at all times. Still,
it was unusual not to have heard form him all day.
Not feeling quite ready to go to bed, I decided to call all of the
people in the U.S. that I had invited to my birthday party. I started with
my parents, moved to my brother, then finished up with my friends. As it
turned out, Maggie was the only person from my circle of New York theater
friends that was able to make it. She told me that she was bringing
someone that I would be most interested in meeting, but refused to say
anymore.
It was nearly one in the morning when I heard the front door open.
I was in bed, reading a script, but closed it while I waited for JC to make
his appearance. "Hi," he said, tossing his bag onto the floor and starting
to unbutton his shirt. He looked tired. Weary.
"Hi," I said. "I tried calling you all day. I kept getting your
voicemail."
"Sorry," he said. "I forgot to charge it last night, so the
battery died pretty quickly."
"Oh, ok," I said, finding myself opening up the script again. I
wanted to ask him why he hadn't thought to call me, but I didn't. JC went
into the bathroom, then returned in his boxer-briefs and climbed into bed.
"Are you going to keep reading?" he asked, rolling onto his side,
facing away from me. "I'm really tired."
"No," I said, closing the script once again and turning off my
bedside lamp. I thought that he would have come home wanting to tell me
all about the video shoot, but apparently he didn't want to talk at all. I
could tell that he was closing himself off, but I didn't know what there
was for me to do about it. JC was an adult. I couldn't continually badger
him every day to tell me about his feelings and discuss them to exhaustion.
The weird thing was, I didn't know how much I really wanted to.
---------
Two days later, I was home for the evening since there wasn't a
Monday night show. I was thinking it would be a good chance to talk to JC
since we hadn't spoken much lately. He had spent most of Sunday hermited
in his makeshift studio, only to leave for the evening with the two guys
who comprised Basement Jaxx. There was a growing distance between us, and
neither one of us seemed to be trying to stop it.
I walked into the living room, determined to put things back on
track. Almost immediately I noticed JC staring at the television, a look
of hatred on his face. "What on earth warrants a look like that?" I asked,
looking over at the television.
"Would you look at this shit?" he said, glaring at the TV. It was
obviously the rough cut of his video, and he obviously didn't like it. I
looked at the screen, thinking that while it didn't look like a
particularly memorable video, it certainly looked fine.
"Look at me," he said, pointing to the screen. "Dancing with
barely dressed girls AND guys behind me. And these shots here look like a
God dam orgy!"
"Josh, the video is supposed to be hot, isn't it? Didn't you want
it to show some sexuality between you and the male dancers?"
"I look like such a fag," he said, turning it off and storming out
of the room.
"What kind of a thing is that to say?" I asked, following him into
the kitchen. Christ, why did we always end up in the kitchen?
"Come on, Nate. Everyone's always thought that I acted a bit
girly, and now here I am, in a sleeveless shirt with muscular guys
practically sweating on me."
"I like it," I said. "It was hot. People will think it is hot."
"People will think it is gay. It will be shown once and never seen
again."
"Um, Josh, first of all, if the song keeps doing as well as it is,
the video isn't going to disappear. And second, isn't this kind of the
whole friggin' point? To let people know you are gay?" JC ran his fingers
through his hair and looked up at the ceiling.
"You're right!" he yelled. "As usual there is no reason for me to
be upset at all," he said sarcastically. "Thank you for always making me
feel like I'm just being an irrational idiot."
"What the hell are you talking about now?" I shouted. "Why don't
you call up the video director and bitch him out if you're in a bad mood?"
"You don't give a shit about what it's like for me to go through
this, do you?" he asked. I was having trouble judging whether he was
actually serious or just trying to win an argument for the sake of winning
one.
"What it's like for you?" I shrieked, almost with a laugh. "Josh,
have you ever given any thought to the fact that you haven't once asked me
how I thought this would affect my career? You haven't once asked me if I
was worried that I may never work again. I mean, that's real cute that
you've already had years of being on top and have fifty million dollars in
the bank, but I haven't had those things yet. Those are the things I'm
willing to give up for you!"
"Don't do me any favors," he said, walking out of the kitchen. I
could feel my blood boiling. What the hell was going on?
"You're leaving?" I asked, watching him pull on his jacket. "In
the middle of an argument?"
"It's the best way to end one," he said, finding the set of keys we
had to our rental car on the table near the door. He opened the door and
walked out, not even closing the door behind him. For a guy who thought he
acted girly, he was certainly behaving like a typical male. For a moment I
stood where I was, completely dumfounded, motionless. I quickly came back
to reality and walked over to the door where I could see him getting into
the car.
"Fucking coward!" I yelled, slamming the door closed. It was me at
my most melodramatic. I marched up the stairs and into the bedroom, rage
coursing through me. I wanted to do something, but had no idea what that
something should be. Had I gone completely nuts, or was I completely
right? I had gotten myself into such a habit of thinking I was the person
who kept messing things up, that I found it difficult to assign any blame
to JC. Apparently, that had changed tonight. I had tried to be
understanding and reassuring, and was met with open hostility. I hadn't
done anything wrong. It was a weird feeling but it was also a pretty
familiar one. It was the feeling of being myself.
I sat down on the bed and started to look through magazines,
eventually moving on to my scripts and then to the large novel that had
been sitting on the nightstand for months. I should have gone out as well,
but since I originally had been looking forward to an evening at home, I
wasn't going to let a little thing like JC storming out of the house take
that away from me.
It was after one in the morning when I heard the car come to a stop
outside the house. I quickly turned off the light and tucked myself under
the covers. Maybe it was childish, but I was mad and I wanted him to know
that I didn't want to talk to him. A few minutes later, the light from the
hallway poured in as JC opened the door. I assumed he would head into the
bathroom or take a blanket and leave, but instead I felt him climbing onto
the bed, his hand tentatively grasping my shoulder.
"Nate," he called softly. My shoulder tensed, revealing that I was
not asleep. "Nate, I'm so sorry," he said. He pressed his forehead
against my back, then kissed my shoulder. "I'm an idiot," he said.
"Please don't stay mad at me." His kisses traveled up my neck, and I could
feel my resolve melting a little, though I was still hurt and confused.
"If you're unhappy with your life, then change it," I said. "I
can't be in charge of your happiness twenty-four seven."
"I know," he said. "You know that I get beside myself sometimes
and I have to figure out why that is. But I also know that you know how
much I love you. I couldn't ask to have anyone more wonderful in my life."
He was still kissing my neck intermittingly and I had to resist the impulse
to roll onto my back and pull him on top of me.
"I know you love me," I said. "And I love you. But for some
reason we are not communicating like we used to, and that's something we
have to work on." I wanted to say that he was the one having the problem
communicating, but it seemed less harsh to say that we were both a bit
culpable.
"We will," he said, rolling me onto my back and kissing my lips
fully. His leather jacket was still on, making crunchy sounds against my
chest. My hands soon found there way to his back, and before I knew it, we
were making love, JC hurriedly pulling off his clothes and tossing them to
the floor as I pulled off my t-shirt and crushed him against me. JC rode
me hard that night, moaning loudly, his hands almost painfully gripping my
chest as I thrusted inside of him. I knew that having sex with him was not
a way to solve our problems, but I also knew how hard he was to resist.
----------
Things improved the next morning, and stayed steady through much of
the week. In between the film, the play and my English dialect classes for
the next film I would be making, I set about making all the arrangements
for my party. I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted it to be a
party that the entertainment news shows would be talking about for days,
even if they were unable to catch a glimpse of it.
All the while JC had been more quiet than usual, and his outbursts
seemed to have stopped. He spent a lot of time on the phone with different
executives, discussing every aspect of his career. I also suspected that
he spent a lot of time alone, as he would frequently be out of the house,
only to return with nothing of interest to report. Ok, I would think to
myself, running from one task to the next. This is a difficult time for
him. Not only did he have the normal pressures of an album coming out, but
he was about to come out as well. Whenever I would ask him if he was
having second thoughts he would immediately answer in the negative, and I
worried about pressing him on the issue too much because I didn't want him
to think I was trying to make him doubt his own decision for my own
personal benefit.
JC's record company had managed to secure an interview with Barbara
Walters without letting her know of the subject matter. The deal was that
we would discuss the topic with her closer to the time under the condition
that she not report any of the discussions that would take place off
camera. In return, it would be up to her station whether or not to air the
final interview. JC's album was going to be released at the end of the
month, which is when we would fly to New York to do the interview. His
record company was hoping that the interview would air after the first week
of sales.
It was the day before my birthday, and I had a few hours in between
filming and the play to do some last minute party preparations. My A-list
friends thought that it was ridiculous that I did not have an assistant to
help me with these things, but the last thing I wanted was to have another
stranger lurking around the house all the time. It was hard enough getting
JC to stop moving Carlos around with him.
"Hi, Nate," JC said when I walked into the living room. He was
playing some sort of video game on the television with an intense look on
his face.
"Having fun?" I asked, dialing the florist on the phone.
"Yep," he said, rapidly pressing one of the buttons on the
controller he was holding.
"Were you able to pick up the wine glasses I ordered?"
"Nope," he said, his tongue coming out of his mouth as his other
hand began to rapidly press a button. "Sorry."
I shook my head and confirmed the flower delivery on the phone,
heading back out of the room. "You know," I started, turning back toward
him. "I understand that you are really busy, but why did you say you were
able to get the glasses if you knew you couldn't?" JC let out a small sigh
and paused his game, looking over at me.
"Do you want me to go right now?" he asked. "This is the first
hour I have enjoyed myself in a week."
"No, I'll go," I said with a bit more attitude than I had
originally intended. Was I trying to start a fight? "If I'm late to the
play, they can always just ask the audience to wait."
"Nate, why is either one of us picking anything up?" he asked.
"Why didn't you just send Jimmy or one of my guys?"
"Jimmy is a bull in a china shop," I said. "They're custom made
crystal goblets. I wanted them treated carefully." This was a stupid
argument. I knew that. "And I would have sent someone else if you hadn't
said you would do it."
"Fine," he said, standing up. "I'm going right now." He started
walking toward me.
"Josh, stop," I said, putting out my hand. "This is so not
something worth fighting about."
"Nate, I don't mind," he said flatly. "I did say I would do it, so
I'm going to go do it."
"Wait," I said, getting an idea. "Why don't we both go? We've
hardly seen each other this week. It will be fun."
"Um, ok," he said, giving me a strange look. I could tell that he
was thinking that if I was able to go with him, I could just as easily go
by myself. But he didn't say anything, and so we headed off to the glass
factory in pursuit of my monogrammed wine glasses.
JC sat quietly in the passenger seat, looking out the window. "Was
that Justin you were talking to last night when I got home?" I asked,
trying desperately to think of something to talk about.
"Yeah," he said.
"How does he feel about all this?"
"He's not too happy," he said, a brief smile coming to his lips.
"I first had to spend nearly an hour convincing him that you weren't the
one behind the whole decision." I let out a small chuckle. "Then I had to
hear about how I was destroying any chance of NSYNC ever getting back
together after this, and that I might also end up destroying our record
company."
"What did you say?" I asked with interest.
"I told him to fuck off," he said confidently. "I told him that I
had spent my life accommodating everyone else, and that this was my chance
to do something just for myself."
"Wow," I said, wondering where JC thought I stood in this equation.
Was it even possible that he wasn't considering me at all?
We got the glasses and rushed back to the house before I had to
rush back to the theater. "Maggie and my family should be here around
nine," I said, practically running out the door. "You'll be here for them,
right?"
"Yeah," JC called from the living room.
"You're sure?" I asked again. I didn't want to come home to see
them all sitting on the front stoop.
"Yes," he called again, a bit louder. "I'll be here."
----------
I embraced Maggie a bit harder than I intended, but I was so happy
to see another person I loved. "You're really living the high life here,"
she said, greeting me on the front stoop after, thankfully, emerging from
inside the house.
"Yeah," I said. She took my hand and led me into the living room
where I greeted Edward and my parents, who all rushed over to me. I looked
over to see that JC was in the living room as well, sitting in a chair,
drinking a glass of wine. His cell phone rang, and he smiled politely at
everyone before getting up and exiting the room.
"What's wrong with the two of you?" Maggie asked as soon as he
left.
"What are you talking about?" I feigned, my eyes widening to tell
her that I didn't want to discuss my relationship in front of my family.
"You too looked at each other like strangers," my mother said,
reminding me of where I had inherited my powers of observation from.
"Yeah, normally you two are all over each other," Edward laughed,
looking at my parents. "I know," he said. "I used to live here. You
should have seen them."
"That's enough, Edward," my dad said, shaking his head.
"Everything is fine," I offered. "We're both just under a lot of
stress. We've been working very hard."
"You look terrific, son," my dad said.
"Thank you," I replied. We all talked for a while and I helped all
of them get settled into their different rooms, opting to keep them all on
the second floor so as to reduce the risk of any of them encountering our
supernatural housemates.
After getting everyone unpacked, my mother asked if she could see
me in her room. I smiled at the others and went to visit her. Closing the
door behind me, I had only made it a few steps before there was a knock at
the door, followed by Maggie's head popping in. "Are we about to have girl
talk?" she smiled, blinking her eyes.
"Yes," my mother smiled at the two of us. "Both of you come and
sit down." I rolled my eyes at the two of them as they both looked at me
with great interest. I sat down next to my mother on the bed, and Maggie
pulled over a chair, placing her hands on my knee.
"Where's your mystery man?" I asked her.
"He'll be here tomorrow," she said quickly. "Now tell us what is
wrong." I looked back and forth between the two of them, almost wanting to
laugh at their matching expressions. Apparently Maggie and my mother had
become good friends on the flight over, and now I was supposed to share
everything with them.
Slowly, I started to explain that JC and I had been bickering a lot
lately. I told them about his mood swings and how I was really starting to
feel ambivalent toward the whole 'coming out' subject. It felt good to be
talking about it, but in the end we all concluded that we just couldn't
completely tell what JC's problem was. Sure we knew it had to do with his
album and 'coming out,' but whether it was stress about doing the right
thing, or stress about not wanting to do it all, we could not know.
"Just try to be understanding," my mom said. "Don't stop
communicating. You have to open to listening to him, and he will tell
you." I thought that was what I was doing, but maybe I was aggravated too.
Maybe I should talk to him again. Maybe we could just hash it out and
start moving forward again.
We all had a late dinner, and then I had to go to bed, leaving the
others on their own to figure out the best way to deal with the time
change. JC remained quiet but pleasant throughout the meal, and politely
answered all the questions my mother threw at him in an attempt to get him
to relax.
"Happy birthday," JC said to me, alone in the bedroom, pointing to
the clock that had passed midnight.
"Thanks," I said. "Though I think we have to go by eastern
U.S. time for that."
"I hope you have fun tomorrow," he said, climbing into bed. "It's
going to be a lot of people."
I slid under the covers next to him and propped my head up with my
elbow. "I hope you have fun too, Josh," I said. "You seemed so serious
tonight."
"Yeah," he said.
"Can we talk about it?" I asked.
"It's just stress, Nate," he said. "It will all be over in a few
weeks. I just don't feel like discussing anything anymore." I didn't
really know how to respond to a statement like that, so I simply nodded and
kissed his cheek, telling him that it was ok just as long as he knew that I
was here for him.
Trying to fall asleep and trying to mentally prepare myself for the
next day proved to be a daunting task. I laid there for what felt like
hours, staring up at the dark ceiling, wondering perhaps for the first time
if my love life would look very different to me by my next birthday.
----------
Despite my stresses, I still managed to pull off a terrific party.
Paparazzi lined our quaint, fashionable block, and nearly every celebrity
within a stone's throw of England seemed to find their way to party. There
was great music, great food and great wine. Laughter was a constant sound.
As host and birthday boy, I had the enviable task of both enjoying myself
and making sure that everything went as planned. Everywhere I walked, a
person would pull me over into a conversation where I would laugh, nod and
ease myself away. It was, to date, the most significant proof of my
arrival as a celebrity.
All eyes were on me as I moved about. Once again it was one of
those times where I realized I was on the verge of having everything,
though now the only thing threatening that dream was mine and JC's decision
to 'come out.' Throughout the evening I would frequently notice JC
watching me, neither annoyed nor thrilled. He was simply watching me, and
I wondered how much more of this uncertainty I was supposed to stand.
"Natty," Maggie called, motioning me over to her. She took my hand
and started leading me up the stairs. "Come on," she said. "It's time you
introduced me to your roommates."
"Maggie, I have guests," I laughed, following her lead.
"Please," she sighed. "They can continue fawning over you in ten
minutes."
"By the way," I said, giving up. "Congrats on the man candy."
"He's fabulous isn't he?" she said, leading me up to the third
floor. "It's a shame we are breaking up next week."
"What?" I asked, completely flabbergasted.
"Some other time," she said. We entered the attic portion of the
third floor. It looked like it was made to be filmed. Without its
knowledge it had cast itself in the role of spooky Victorian attic,
complete with random pieces of antique furniture, and large objects covered
in dusty white cloths.
"So, introduce me to the boys," Maggie said, wandering around the
room.
"It doesn't work like that, exactly," I said. "Come to think if
it, I've only been up here once. This has really just been Josh's space."
"That's a shame," she said, her hands dancing over the top of an
old writing desk. "Look at how beautiful all of this stuff is." She
raised the roll top of the desk and looked at it a bit closer while I made
my way over to the windows, curious to see the view from this vantage
point.
"Uh, Natty," Maggie called suddenly. "I think you should come take
a look at this."
"What is it?" I asked, walking toward her. She was holding a small
black velvet box in the palm of her hand.
"It was in one of the drawers," she said apologetically. I
swallowed hard and took it from her.
"Maybe it's old," I said, though I could tell from the boxes
condition that it was brand new. I took a deep breath and opened it.
Inside was a platinum ring. "Wow," was all I could say. I picked up the
ring and examined it closer, as though I needed more confirmation as to
what it was. Inscribed on the underside of the ring were two sets of
initials, J.C. and N.M. Eyes wide, I looked up at Maggie, who had tears
moving down her face.
"Oh, Natty," she started. "This is so beautiful. He's going to
propose to you."
"Can he do that?" I asked, wondering how all that would work.
"Why the hell not?" she retorted. I could feel an excitement
rising within me, though I was also struggling to quell it.
"But things have been so strained between us," I said. "Wait a
minute. Do you think this is why he's been acting this way? You think he
is having second thoughts?"
"No, no," Maggie said. "Maybe the decision is just making him
nervous. Maybe he's worried that you might say 'no.' If you combine that
stress along with all the other problems he's facing, I would say his
behavior has been down right understandable."
"I don't know," I said, afraid to get too excited. It didn't all
make sense, but I had to admit that the uncovering of an unknown variable
made it a strong contender for the reasons behind JC's actions. "Oh my
God," I said, suddenly realizing. "Our anniversary is tomorrow."
"This is so sweet," she said. "And just a bit corny like I would
expect him to do."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I laughed, surprised at the feeling
of a small tear in my eye. I was starting to feel a lot of regret for my
own behavior these past few weeks. Here was JC, about to formally tell me
that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, and I was yelling at
him to pick up glasses. "I guess this is going to make the car I bought
him seem a little less intimate," I said, placing the ring back in its box.
"He must really love you," Maggie said.
"This makes it all worth it then, doesn't it?" I asked. I felt
like I was entering a new world. I had never expected something like this
from JC, and it served to reaffirm my commitment to him. No matter what
would happen in the coming weeks, I was going to be assured of his love and
of his desire to be with me no matter what. Maggie took the box from me
and placed it back inside the desk where she found it. It was a clever
hiding place really. I never would have come up here if Maggie hadn't
forced me.
We made our way back downstairs where I saw JC standing in a
corner, talking to a few people. He looked up at me and I couldn't help
but smile, hoping that he didn't suspect where I had just been. He smiled
back and a familiar flutter returned inside my heart. He was the man I
loved, and knowing that made it ok if my career was about to come to an
end.
Later, after everyone had left, after our house guest went to bed,
JC and I stood in the foyer, surprised that our guests had not nearly made
as much of a mess of things as we would have anticipated. "Did you have
fun?" JC asked, picking some things up off of the floor.
"It was great," I said. "It was the kind of party I could only
have dreamed of having."
"I'm glad," he said. "You deserve it."
"Thank you," I said seriously. In my mind I was saying, "yes, I
accept your proposal."
"Tomorrow will be our second anniversary," I said, wanting to see
what he might say to that.
"Of the day we first fucked?" he asked innocently, giving me a
wink.
"Of the day we met," I said, shaking my head.
"Yeah," he said. "How about that?" We put a few things away and
headed upstairs. I guess he was going to make me wait until tomorrow. I
wondered if he would go so far as to ask my parents for permission. "Are
you blushing?" JC asked, looking at me on the way up the stairs.
"No, no," I said, hurrying up and into the bedroom. Once we were
both in bed I positioned myself over JC and kissed him hungrily.
"Aren't you tired?" he asked.
"Just the opposite," I said, sliding my hand into his pajama
bottoms. A half-hour later, I rolled off of JC, watching his chest rapidly
rise and fall.
"That was energetic," he said, smiling and rolling onto his side to
face me.
"I love you," I said, moving my hand toward him.
"I love you too," he said, taking my hand into his.
---------
Nothing could prepare me for what happened the next day. Nothing.
We all had a big breakfast together followed by an afternoon of sightseeing
in London. All day long I kept looking at JC for signs of nervousness or
excitement, but he seemed relatively calm as we moved Maggie and my family
from one museum to the next. Toward the evening, everyone went off on
their own, knowing that JC and I had dinner plans for just the two of us.
We went to one of our favorite restaurants, and while I didn't think he
would propose in such a public place, I knew it would be coming soon after
as he told me we were going someplace 'very special' afterward.
Wanting to get my own gift out of the way, over dessert I decided
to be cute and just toss the keys to a brand new two-seater BMW onto the
table.
"Nate," he said, his eyes widening and his mouth turning into a
smile. "What did you do?" He picked up the keys and examined them closer.
"You said you liked it in the window," I said, pretending to treat
it as though it was nothing more than a pair of shoes. "I just figured you
shouldn't have to ride around town in a rental anymore."
"My God, I could just kiss you," he said, shaking his head.
"So what's stopping you?" I asked, looking around the restaurant.
Wasn't this the kind of thing we would soon be seen doing all over the
world?
JC paused for a moment, looking around the room as well. He came
at me as though his seat had an eject button on it, and before I knew it I
had been kissed and he was placing his napkin back on his lap. Ok, I
thought to myself. This is progress.
With dinner and dessert out of the way, JC asked me if I was ready
for what was going to come next. "Yes," I almost yelled, hurrying back
into the car. We were driven into the center of London, eventually parking
in front of Harrod's. JC climbed out of the car and I followed. We went
to the front entrance and I was surprised to find that it was still open at
this late hour. We were greeted by a young woman who seemed very happy to
be welcoming the two of us. I wondered if she was in on what was about to
happen.
"Ok," JC said, turning to me. "Now maybe you won't find this
exciting, but at least I know it's something you haven't done before."
"Certainly not," I laughed. It wasn't even legal in the United
States.
JC gave me a strange look but continued. "For the next few hours,
or for however long it takes you, this entire store is ours and ours
alone." He smiled brightly and gestured with his hand. "Whatever you want
you can have. The sky is the limit." He might as well have picked up one
of the nearby umbrellas and stabbed me through the heart with it. This had
to be some sort of joke.
"Are you serious?" I asked, trying to sound like I was surprised
when what I really wanted to know was if he was serious.
"Yes," he said. "It will be so much fun. Let's break the bank!"
I smiled because he and the woman were smiling. Before I knew it I was up
in the men's section, looking through an assortment of cashmere sweaters.
Where was the ring? Where was the fucking ring? Shopping was perhaps the
last thing I wanted to be doing as I began to contemplate the possibility
that JC had planned on proposing to me but had changed his mind. How could
this be happening, I thought. Was it my fault?
I started throwing things into bags not because I wanted them, but
because I wanted to get this present over with in case the real present was
somehow still coming. I told myself that maybe this was just a prelude. I
didn't want to accept the fact that JC was giving no indication of
something important being on his mind.
Several thousand dollars and three hours later, we were back in the
car, headed back toward the townhouse. I couldn't believe what a fool I
had been. I could have kicked myself. When would I ever get my priorities
straight? Here I was, day after day struggling to come to the right
decision about our future, only to realize that my number one priority
would always be JC, just as he was realizing he wasn't ready to make a
permanent commitment to me.
I watched him like a hawk as he got ready for bed, pulling on a
tank top, brushing his teeth and washing his face. I was looking for any
sign of something still to come. I was under the covers when he switched
off the light and got into bed. "I hope you had fun," he said.
"I did," I said. "It was definitely an eye opening experience."
He leaned over and gave me a kiss before settling back down on his side of
the bed.
"Happy anniversary," he said.
"Happy anniversary to you too," I replied. "Josh?"
"Yeah?" he answered.
"Did you forget something tonight?" It was a stupid question. It
was a desperate attempt to see that the universe did operate in a
foreseeable pattern.
"Oh, of course," he said. "Thank you so much for the car. I can't
wait to see it."
"No, Josh, that's not what I meant," I sighed.
"Oh," he said. "Um, then no. I don't think I forgot anything."
"Ok," I said, rolling away from him and closing my eyes.
----------
"This is why I was always right in putting myself first," I yelled
at Maggie over lunch in the West End. "I'm not the kind of guy who centers
his whole life around his partner." I had to keep lowering my voice to
keep other patrons from staring at me. "Look at me," I said. "I'm a total
mess. I'm about to ruin my career for a guy who doesn't love me."
"Of course he loves you," Maggie said. "He just doesn't seem to
want to marry you."
"It's not like I was even thinking about getting married," I
continued. "But once it was on the table and then taken off of it, well,
what the hell am I supposed to do with that?"
"I wish we just never found the ring," she said. "Natty, maybe it
just wasn't the right time for him. Maybe he's planning on doing it soon."
"No," I said. "Last night would have been perfect. He had to be
originally planning it for last night. I know him too well. Christ, even
you knew he would do something corny like that!"
"He is under a lot of stress. Maybe he just wants to have
everything resolved in himself before he makes such a grand gesture to
you."
"I can't even believe we're having this conversation. It's just
too bizarre."
"So what are you going to do?" Maggie asked. "Are you going to say
something to him?"
"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "I'm going to ask him why he didn't
propose to me with the ring he has up in the attic." I shook my head and
took a big sip of my coffee. "No. I'm going to go ahead with everything
as planned," I said, my jaw clenching and my eyes steady.
"Are you serious?" Maggie asked, her eyes wide with concern. "With
all this uncertainty surrounding everything?"
"Yep," I said. "I want to see just how far Josh is willing to go.
I want to know if he's capable of putting me through all of this when he's
not even sure that we are going to go through the aftermath of it
together." My resolve was unwavering. Career or no career, I was going to
see this to the end.
"Natty, I really hope you know what you are doing," Maggie said.
"Me too," I replied.
----------
Two more weeks passed. No ring materialized. In fact, it
disappeared from the attic shortly after our anniversary. Emotionally, I
had shut myself off from JC, even though I continued to act pleasant. In
the meantime, JC's single continued to rise up the charts and his video was
performing well on MTV.
It was the day before our Barbara Walters interview and I was
sitting in my agent's office surrounded by him and a small group of other
people who apparently had a stake in my career.
"Don't do this," Allen pleaded, turning his palms up on the
polished conference table. "Not like this. Not now." I shifted my eyes
to the large window behind him. The view of mid-town Manhattan was a
familiar but pleasant sight. I sighed. I had to move back to the city.
"Nate," Allen continued, resisting the temptation to snap his
fingers in order to get my attention. "The offers continue to pour in
every day. Every director wants you. Every actor wants to be cast
opposite you. And now Burberry has called."
"Burberry?" I repeated, wondering what the hell he was talking
about. "What do they want?"
"They want you to be the new face of their company. They want your
face on billboards all over the world. According to them you are..."
Allen stopped to read from a paper in front of him. "The epitome of gentle
sophistication and brooding masculinity." He pushed the paper away from
him. "What do you have to say about that?" he said, thinking he had pulled
a rabbit out of his sleeve.
"You're saying that Burberry won't want me to model their clothes
if I'm openly gay?" I wasn't defending my position. I was just repeating
the script I had been spitting out for months.
"What do you think?" A man sitting opposite me with too much product in his
hair said.
"Who are you?" I asked, raising my shoulders.
"Nate, just listen to me," Allen said. "We're not talking an
appearance fee. We're talking an endorsement deal worth millions of
dollars. Don't just brush this off."
"I'm not a model, Allen," I said, though I couldn't believe I was
saying it. Inside, I wanted to jump out of my skin I was so excited about
the prospect.
"Nate."
"So close the deal," I said to him. "Tell them I'll do it.
Whatever happens, happens."
"We're not just worried about the Burberry campaign," Allen
continued. "You know that what is most in jeopardy is your acting career."
"You mean my film career," I corrected. "God, you act like half of
Hollywood isn't gay already."
"Making movies and picking up guys is one thing," the man with too
much product in his hair said. "Talking to Barbara Walters is something
else."
"Whoa," I said, standing up. It was time for some drama. "I don't
remember signing a contract at any point saying that any of you had any
control over my personal life." The volume of my voice was loud but
steady. "I didn't come here to be told what to do. I came here to listen
to what you had to say and to decide for myself." I put my hands down by
my sides. "And I have decided," I said. "I've decided that I will do
exactly what I want, exactly when I want. If that's not ok with the studio
or the producers or even fucking Burberry, then that's just too bad." I
looked over at the man with too much product in his hair. "As for you," I
began. "If you ever say another word to me or try to trivialize my
lifestyle in any way, I will put my foot so far up your ass your going to
have to open your mouth for me to tie the laces." I saw the man's eyes
widen as I turned and exited the office.
Shortly after I left, I called Allen to tell him that it was
nothing personal. I knew that he had always been in my corner and I knew
that he was just watching out for my best interests, even if he did profit
from them. He said he understood and wished me well. I couldn't back down
now, I thought to myself. Even if I was doing it for JC. Even if he
didn't love me. I had committed myself to doing this and this was what I
wanted to do. It would be the surest way to know where I stood in the eyes
of JC, myself and the world.
----------
The next day was the interview. JC and I were both in my New York
apartment getting ready, talking about how there would be no turning back
after this. In the past two weeks, JC had maintained his quietness and his
distance, suggesting that his mind was still a jumble of his thoughts. Now
he was practically silent.
"You ok?" I asked, pulling on a pair of jeans.
"Yep," he said, buttoning up his shirt and walking over to the
mirror.
"You know, they'll do your hair when we get there," I smiled,
walking to stand next to him while he messed with his recently shorter
locks. I put my hand around his waist and he pulled away.
"I have to get ready," he said quietly, moving across the room to
put on his shoes. If anyone was watching this scene, they would probably
be asking at least one of us what the hell we were doing. Why was JC doing
this if he didn't really want to? Why was I doing this for him when I knew
he had changed his mind about wanting to marry me? They were good
questions, but unfortunately both of us seemed to be running on automatic
pilot.
We finished dressing and took a car to the restaurant we had rented
out for the interview. We had a terrible time deciding where the interview
should take place. All I demanded was that it not be my apartment. It was
the last threshold of privacy to me, and I wasn't willing to give that up.
Sitting next to JC at the table, watching beads of sweat start to
form on his forehead, I got the feeling that things may not go exactly as
planned today. "Barbara is stuck in traffic," a production assistant said.
"Can I get you guys anything to drink?"
"No," JC forced out of his mouth. It was a shame because he looked
like he could use a drink.
"Don't tell me you're nervous," I laughed, placing a light punch on
JC's arm. "We've been planning this for months."
"I know," was all he said, nervously clapping his hands together.
A few minutes passed, giving me time to reflect on this experience. I was
surprisingly calm. Maybe I had lost my mind, or maybe I just didn't care
anymore. I couldn't be sure. The only thing that I did know was that, no
matter what was about to happen, my life would never be the same again. I
was resolved to that in some way. Maybe in some way it was an exhilarating
experience for me to just give up control. I had friends, I had family and
I had money. If my career path was to end up as a recurring character on
'Will & Grace,' then so be it. There was always theater.
"Nate," JC said, suddenly, pulling me away from my thoughts. I
turned to look at him. He eyes were wide and glassy. His skin was as pale
as a ghost. His chest was quickly rising and falling. "I'm sorry," he
said, standing up and walking toward the exit.
"Josh," I called, jumping to my feet. He continued walking, but I
didn't follow. I made my way to the window to see him climb into the back
of the car we had taken to the restaurant. The car shortly thereafter sped
away. I could hear all the people around me asking where had JC Chasez
just gone. They were all looking at me, as though I must know something
that they didn't. In truth I was as lost as they were.
My first impulse was to feel sorry for JC. He obviously had issues
that he just couldn't work out in time. But my second impulse was to feel
anger. In these past couple of years, why hadn't he confided in me his
fears? I was the big talker in our relationship. I felt now like I truly
did not know him.
Barbara Walters arrived and I had to explain to her that the
interview was cancelled. I also took it upon myself to remind her of our
confidentiality agreement, though I didn't think she would be the type of
woman to discuss our lives on tomorrow's episode of 'The View.'
"Is there anything I can do for you, Mr. Murray?" a different
production assistant asked me a bit later.
"Actually," I began. "Do you think you could give me a ride home?"
----------
Late that night, I heard keys jiggling in the lock of my front
door. I was sitting on a couch in the living room, my legs curled up
underneath me. I hadn't called anyone since I got back the apartment. I
hadn't told anyone anything. I didn't answer my phone.
The door opened and JC slowly appeared. He closed the door behind
him and slowly walked toward me. He stood there, staring at me, and I
simply stared back.
"I need to explain," he eventually said.
"If you want to," I said.
"Nate, it had nothing to do with you. Honest, it didn't. You know
how much I love you."
"Yeah," I said. "Josh, if you didn't want to 'come out,' why
didn't you just tell me you had changed your mind. Why did you put us on
this path in the first place?"
"I don't know," he said, his voice suddenly full of emotion, tears
starting to stream down his cheeks. "I guess it's because I'm totally
fucked up." He wiped the tears from his cheeks but they kept coming. I
wanted to comfort him, but I was no longer sure if I should. "I wasn't
ready," he cried. "I guess I always knew I wouldn't be ready. It was just
something I really wanted to do. I thought I could force myself to be the
kind of man I want to be, but I think I was wrong."
"And what about me?" I asked. "I was just around for the ride?
You didn't think that these were the kind of thoughts you should be
discussing with me?"
"You're the last person I could talk to," he said, much to my
surprise. "You're so strong, Nate. You're so much stronger than me." He
let out a sob. "I hate being weak around you."
"Josh, I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not even sure why
you are with me."
"What do you mean?" he said, fishing some tissues out of his
pockets. I guess this wasn't the first time he cried today.
"You don't even love me," I said. What was the point of pretending
anymore? If JC was going to show all of his cards, I might as well too.
"Of course I love you," he said. "How could you think that?"
"I saw the ring, Josh," I said. He almost took a step back.
"Maggie and I found it by accident."
"Oh God," he said, casting his eyes toward the floor.
"So what was it?" I asked. "What made you change your mind about
me? Was it because I supported you too much in every single thing you
wanted to do?" I slowly stood up and slowly made my way toward him. "Was
it because I was willing to give up everything I've worked for because I
loved you so much?" I thought I sounded angry, but I could also hear that
my voice was getting choked up. I stood directly in front of him. "Or was
it simply because you didn't want the responsibility of being the person I
loved more than anyone else on this fucking earth?" Now tears were rolling
down my face, and I immediately wanted to kick myself. I wanted to stay
angry. I didn't want to show that I was hurt.
"Nate, please," he said reaching for me. I pulled away from him.
He tried again and I found myself yelling 'no.'
"Nate, I wanted to give you that ring," he sobbed. I almost
stopped him. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know his reasons. "I
wanted to pledge myself to you forever. I still do, but I...I just
couldn't. Not then. Not now."
"I think you've said enough," I said. "You can go anytime now."
"When I bought that ring I was still lying to myself," he
continued. "I still thought that I would be ok with all of this and that
we would live happily ever after. But a few weeks ago I knew that I was
having second thoughts. I knew that there was a chance that I wouldn't be
able to go through this whole 'coming out' thing. My single started doing
well, my album was coming together. I wasn't sure if I could risk all of
that for something I wasn't really comfortable doing in the first place."
"I understand," I said sarcastically. "What's true love compared
to having a number one hit?"
"You're not following me," he corrected. "Nate, I didn't give you
the ring because I don't even no who I am. I'm not comfortable being me,
but I'm too scared to be anyone else. How could I make a commitment to you
when I that is how I feel?"
"I guess you can't," I said. "You didn't."
"Nate, I need some time. I need to figure out my own head."
"So what are we supposed to do now?" I asked, tossing my hands up
in the air. "Start couple's therapy?" JC pressed his lips together and
shook his head. "Oh," I said, nodding my head. "I get it. You're
breaking up with me."
"I just need some time," he said.
"You son of a bitch," I said. "We're not in junior high anymore,
Josh. We're adults and this is real life."
"I've never spent a day on my own," he said. "I've never been
given the chance to go through life like other people."
"Josh, spare me the lecture about the poor little kid who had to
miss out on fraternity parties because he was making millions of dollars
traveling all over the world in a pop group."
"You can't just give me some time?" he asked. "Just until I can
feel comfortable in my own skin?"
"No," I said. "This isn't what I signed up for. I'm in love with
you, Josh. I always have been. I want to have a relationship with you. I
want to share things with you. But if you're not at the same stage of the
game that I am, then I'm not interested." I was done crying at this point,
but I still felt very sad. I never would have expected an outcome like
this. After JC forgave me for my fling with Bobby, I honestly thought that
we would never be apart again.
"Nate, don't you see that it could be good for us? It could be a
chance to do what we've always wanted. Nate, I want the success of being a
solo artist. I want to see the screaming fans. I want to fill up
stadiums. Maybe after I've done that I'll 'come out,' but not now."
"Josh, this isn't about 'coming out.' I don't care if you ever do.
I never did. I just wanted to make you happy, but obviously I failed."
"You do make me happy," he said, starting to cry again. Again, he
reached for me and this time I let him put his arms around me. I didn't
know what else to do. I patted his back, suddenly overcome by the idea
that I might never feel him against me again. I could tell that I was
going to start crying again, so I pulled away, and turned my face toward
the windows, watching the last apartment light across the way switch off
for the night. It felt like minutes had passed without us saying anything.
I could tell that JC was still behind me. He hadn't moved an inch. "I
think this will be for the best," he finally said, and I closed my eyes.
"You'll see. You're going to be a huge star, Nate. You're going to want
the freedom to move independently."
"Ok," I said.
"Why don't we just see where we are in a few months?" he suggested,
looking at me hopefully.
"Let's be honest, Josh," I said. "Do you really think that's going
to work out?"
"I don't know," he said. "It could."
"Josh," I said, turning back around to face him. "If you are
ending this, just end it. I don't want to walk around anymore with hope as
my only friend." He stood silently for a moment, looking at me as though
he was trying to memorize the shape of my face.
"I'm sorry, Nate," he said, sealing our fate.
"Me too," I said. We both stood there. Strangers. We had once
known each other better than we knew anyone else. We had shared a passion
for each other that few people experienced. We had been two halves of a
whole. But now we were strangers.
JC made his way to the door, slowly opening it and slowly stepping
behind it. He looked at me once again, his right side hidden behind the
door, his mouth slightly ajar as though he was about to say something.
Slowly his mouth closed, and his eyes shifted away from mine. He stepped
out into the hall, and closed the door behind him.
----------
I flew back to London alone. I went back to the townhouse alone,
and there I started to live, alone. There was really no reason for JC to
be here anymore. Back in the U.S. he would begin to heavily promote his
album. He would once again become a poster on teenage girls' walls. I
refused to let myself start to wonder what I had been doing for the past
two years. I told myself that all experiences were important, and that
they all contribute to making you who you are. I wasn't going to spend one
minute regretting the time I spent with JC, because for the most part, I
loved those times, even if they had come to an end. JC did teach me a lot
about myself, and I was pretty sure he would say the same about me.
Now I was once again free to pursue my career in exactly the way I
wanted to. I could keep my private life private, and possibly become the
biggest movie star of the 21st century. I could also 'come out' and become
an icon. The choices were mine and mine alone.
A month passed, and then another. It was late July and my life had
become simple. I was still doing the play and I had started working on my
next film, "The Picture of Dorian Gray." I accepted my position as the
spokesperson for Burberry and was enjoying the endless supply of free
clothes that arrived at the townhouse almost daily. I didn't date. I
didn't sleep with anyone. I didn't want to.
JC's single reached number one on the charts shortly after we had
broken up, and his album was really selling well. I heard through the
grapevine that he was planning a big tour. We never spoke.
It was the last day of July when I found myself sitting at a café.
I was alone, though that wasn't typical. Despite being quite down about
the breakup, I managed to keep my friends around me, and it helped to focus
on them and hear about their own troubles. Without having a movie in
theaters for quite some time, the pandemonium surrounding me had died down
considerably, allowing me to occasionally venture outside alone.
Having finished my newspaper and not feeling particularly anxious
to leave, I sat there for a moment, thinking of ways to entertain myself.
I pulled my wallet out of my back pocket and decided to clean it out, as
people had a tendency to give me business cards or tiny slips of paper
wherever I went. It wasn't long before I found myself holding the card of
one Colin Williams. In all of these months I had forgotten that he had
given it to me. The sun was shining brightly and the heat was growing
intense. I looked around, and suddenly it seemed as though everything was
in full bloom. The garden across the street was a sea of reds, pinks,
yellows and blues. It seemed as though everyone was walking hand in hand.
It was summer. It was the season for long walks and moonlight kisses. I
thumbed the card, wondering to myself what my next step would be. My phone
appeared and I was dialing. It rang twice.
"Hello," an all too familiar voice said.
"Hi," I said. "You never thought I would call, did you?"
"I've learned not to underestimate you," Colin said. "It's good to
hear your voice, Nathaniel."
"Yes," I said. "It's good to hear yours too."
"Are you still in London?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, taking a deep breath. "How about you?"
"I always spend the summers in London," he said. I could tell by
the sound of his voice that he was smiling.
To be concluded.